


Guardian In the Shadows

by sociopathic_fangirl_on_Drugs



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, HARD, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Violence, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:40:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociopathic_fangirl_on_Drugs/pseuds/sociopathic_fangirl_on_Drugs
Summary: How Sal met Deacon. Actually, met is a uh, strong word. Includes lots of Google Translate Italian swearing and (sadly) sad Deacon, just a heads up.





	1. Goodneighbor is Boring but Diamond City is Hot Today, Just Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Only Sal belongs to me. Bethesda owns the rest and, apparently, my heart and soul. Am I okay with that? Sure.
> 
> Disclaimer: Mistakes are mine and I can't restrain myself to make actual chapters. Bear with me.

I don't know how I didn't notice him before. Now that I have, I remember seeing him everywhere. Diamond City, Goodneighbor, hell, probably even around Sanctuary or Tenpines Bluff. It helps to think of anyone I saw wearing annoyingly douchey sunglasses. He's probably been following me since I first stepped out of the vault, and I haven't paid him any kind of attention or concern. Not a single lick of suspicion. Damn, he's good at this.

Even now I can see him nearby. He's calmly sweeping the main street of Goodneighbor in front of the Memory Den, but not. Now that I'm looking for him, I can see what he's really doing. Surveillance. He's sweeping (almost without a sound the bastardo [bastard]) as a cover, making himself look busy enough that I won't notice him eyeing me as I walk to the door of the old State House. I almost turn back toward him to confront him about it and figure out what's going on, but decide against it. He's been following me this long with multiple opportunities to do whatever he clearly wants to do to or with me, but hasn't. I have no reason to get violent or try to intimidate information out of him, so I keep walking and try to ignore the burning I can feel on the back of my neck. I can feel him staring now. Damn. How did I not see right through his bull- well uh, brahmin-shit, months ago?

I go inside to talk to Fahrenheit about any jobs available locally (and not like anything Bobbi had me do). I like Fahrenheit. Maybe not enough to call her a friend, but I've got her back if any kind of shit gets ugly and I can see in her eyes she's got mine. She doesn't look at me like a mirelurk hatchling anymore. I'm more of a junkyard dog now. Strange analogy, but it works. Turns out, she doesn't really have anything. Apparently my work as “a mole on Bobbi No-Nose’s work crew” (which isn't entirely accurate) and as the Silver Shroud! has taken care of a lot of the paying jobs in the town. 

I must have some sort of angelic streak or a streak of bad luck. Either way, there's no work to be done unless some lost caravan group stumbles into town injured and harassed for me to avenge and retrieve items for. Great. That means I'm all alone with my thoughts. And the guy that insists on following me everywhere of course. I find I don't really mind him, though. He's silent and hasn't done anything to piss me off. He's not half bad on the eyes either, I have to admit. Wait- umm. I mean… it's true. It's not like I have anyone to judge me besides my now dead husband who wanted me for Shaun and then treated me like a sex toy with “too many damn mental problems”.

So, yeah. No one. (Except me.)

Well shit.

I guess now that I'm not in any way capable of relaxing or falling asleep, I'll check all my equipment, contemplate rigging explosives at the door of my room at the Rexford, then decide against it because that's really fucking dangerous what the fuck I'm not going to keep myself safe I'm just going to end up fucking killing myself and other people with them and maybe then I can do something about letting loose. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. God I hope so. I need a break.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've been double-checking my M1 Garand for wear and tear repeatedly for over 20 minutes when I hear a knock on the door. On instinct, I grab the battle-ready .44 revolver from out of my hip holster. “Who is it?” A soft chuckle comes from behind the door, one I recognize. “Jesus, don't scare me like that. Come on in, Nicky.”

Nicky is grinning as he slides into the room and the door softly clicks shut and locks behind him. “Why'd I scare you doll? You got a shadow I don't know about?” I would laugh, but that's exactly what has me so jumpy. “Yeah, actually. That's why I'm not asleep right now. I wish I was though. The guy’s keepin’ me up at night.” I regret it as soon as I say it, and then see the look on Nicky’s face. He's biting his lip trying not to laugh outright and tipping his hat over his eyes. “No. NO. I didn't mean it like that and you know it!” Hopefully my voice didn't give away that I had almost been thinking about that exact scenario not long ago. He has the courtesy to at least stop laughing before he continues. 

“You sure, doll? I've never seen someone following you affect you this bad before. Usually you've called ‘em out and run them off or dropped ‘em by now.” He's right. I usually do take care of stalkers pretty quickly, but they usually either want to fuck me or kill me. Either way, they end up dead somehow or another, whether it's by my hand or not. They never get to stick around this long. 

“This one's different. He's been following me since the beginning. The beginning.” Nicky’s eyes widen and his brow furrows in confusion and disbelief, but he lets me finish. “He's had so many opportunities to do something and yet he's still watching my every move. I have no idea what he wants but he hasn't bothered me, so I won't bother him. Not until I have reason to anyway.” I sigh. “I don't know, Nicky. He's just… different. He wants something none of the others have, I can tell.” Nicky considers it for a second and seems to decide on a reply. “Would that be in a good way or a bad way?” “Based on how he's kept his distance so far, it could honestly be either. But it's the way he watches me. I don't know. I just have a feeling.” “Then go with your gut, kid. You've made it this far and it hasn't failed you yet. If that's what you feel, go with it. It'll all work out. You'll be fine. Always have been.” 

I get up from the dingy mattress and cross the room to hug Nicky. “Goddamn you Valentine. Why do you have to be so damn sensible all the time?” He chuckles and the vibration ripples through me. It's soothing to my racing nerves. And heart. And my overactive brain. Even though I'm still internally figuring out what to do about the stalker with the handsome face, Nicky stills all my panic and insecurity. He's not even trying to, but it helps so damn much. “Thanks. I mean it. If you didn't show up, I don't know what I'd have broken out of panic and frustration.” He laughs again and rubs small circles into my lower back. I lean into him more and let myself really relax. I just feel so content and calm around him. I don't care what anyone says about us. He's more human than a lot of the people I've met so far, especially the other residents of Diamond City. 

“Could you let go, doll? I just came to say Ellie wants you to come see her if you need something next week. I would let you stay there, but I've got places to be.” I pull myself off of him and apologize. “Sorry Nicky. You're right. Plenty of missing people to find and close cases for. You should get going so you can be back before dark. Don't make Ellie send me after you again.” Nicky huffs at me, but he's grinning. “Alright, doll. I'll get going. Just don't let that gorgeous stranger keep you up too late tonight.” He winks and closes the door with a laugh at my annoyed glare. Damn him. There's nothing more to do tonight, so I might as well pack everything back up, lock the door and go to sleep, no matter how many mysterious fluids the mattress might contain. Thanks brain. I definitely needed that concept rattling around my head before I lay down on said mattress for several hours. Thanks.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up to the sun streaming from the blinds and directly into my eyes. I groan and roll over, but there's just more sunlight. Damn holes in the walls. I roll onto my back and look at the slightly less cracked parts in the ceiling. 

As far as I know, there isn't anything to do today either. I would go back to Sanctuary, but then I'd get an earful from Preston about settlements needing our help. He never stops. I like him and his enthusiasm, but I've told him a hundred times. I'm not fit to be the General. I'm just not fit to be a leader, especially one with any kind of power. I'm no good at it. I would tell him it bothers me, but I don't want to hurt his feelings. I just have to keep lying to him I guess. 

I slowly push myself to a sitting position and groan. That mattress was definitely not great, but it was better than nothing. I twist around and tilt my head to the side to pop my back and neck. It may not sound pleasant, but it feels good after that stiff, fluid-riddled mattress. I get up and check the duffle bag on the coffee table for Sugar Bombs. I need food after skipping dinner to help Charlie with those warehouses. I was too wrapped up in clearing them quickly and neatly to bother with food. 

“Yes! There they are.” I pull the box out and a slightly chilled bottle of milk from the dying refrigerator. It's close enough for me. I pull out a chipped plastic bowl and rinse it out in the semi-purified water of the sink and pour in the cereal and the milk. I scrounge a spoon out of the shoulder bag resting on the mattress and dig into the Sugar Bombs. “Mmm. Still delicious if not slightly radioactive.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure there's nothing to do? I'm bored. I'll do it for free. Anything! I just need something to do!” The Diamond City guard just shakes his head with a hearty chuckle. “Sorry, ma’am. I don't know that anybody has anything.” I sigh. “That's great. No one had anything in Goodneighbor last week either. Thanks officer. I'll go see Ellie Perkins and ask if she has new leads I can follow.”

The guard nods a farewell and I turn to walk to the alley that leads to Nicky’s office, but stop when I see a familiar pair of sunglasses. I try not to make it obvious I noticed him, but I catch a smirk from his direction. To my surprise, he even walks over within spitting distance. “Got nothing to do, huh? I think I can help.” He talked to me? Hmm. And whatever he's proposing sounds interesting, especially coming from him, my silent shadow. “Really? What do I have to do? Who do I have to see?” He grins toothily and leans in close to my ear and whispers. “Go to Boston Common and find the tour bot. Follow the Freedom Trail.” 

Okay. Woah. Close much? I mean, not that I mind, but a little warning? This is a little weird. “I don't usually give warnings for the people that don't mind.” Merda [shit]. I said that out loud, cliché as it is, and now he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Ummm. Thanks? I really didn't mean to say that out loud, but now I wish I had intentionally.” He laughs and I feel the puffs of air on the sensitive skin of my neck. I shiver and his grin widens. “Don't I have to buy you dinner first?” He puffs up in faux formality. “I apologize, fair lady. I will make it up to you, but first, the Trail. Follow it and we can talk about the work I have for you, but just to warn you,” his voice drops and he leans in even closer, “we have to make sure you're not going to expose us. We have to be sure we can really trust you.” I shudder and suppress a moan at the feeling of his lips on my skin as talks. He leans away and walks off with a heavy wink. 

Jesus Christ. That was… intense. I actually need a cold shower, damn. He's really good at this. Guess I'm going to Boston Common and finding the Freedom Trail. I'm very interested in what he's proposing. Work. The work. Not the other thing. Well, also the other thing. If there even is another thing. Whatever. I know what I'm talking about. I shake off my goosebumps and head to the settlement gate instead of Valentine Detective Agency. I'm going on an adventure!


	2. I Can't Watch Birds When My Mind Won't Let Go of You

”Hands up! I won't shoot you like I did your ‘friends’. Just stop shooting and put your hands where I can see them!” The raider curses and slowly puts his hunting rifle on the ground. “On your knees! Put-” “Ooh, kinky.” My shadow appears out of the shadows (heh). “Not like that! You didn't let me finish!” He just smirks at the unintentional innuendo. “Stop it! You're ruining my tough act.” “Alright, alright. Continue from ‘on your knees’, please.” He grins the entire time he's talking and leans against a brick building to watch. I turn back to the raider. “Fanculo [Fuck]. As I was saying, on your knees and put your hands behind your back.” The raider looked amused, but he stops snickering when he hears me snarl. He drops to his knees harshly and puts his hands behind him. I lean in close to the raider’s ear. “Good boy.” His breath hitches and his head drops to his chest. I click my handcuffs around his wrists and back away. My shadow looks a little ruffled. Was it my words or that he saw it actually work on someone? 

“What? Didn't think it would work? Did you not know about my little raider presents? Or is it that you've never heard this part of the process? If that's it, I'm not surprised. I don't think you've ever been quite this close during a fight before.” He doesn't say anything, just keeps standing there, rigid and tense. “Hai perso la lingua? [Cat got your tongue?]” He seems dazed and confused when he hears me speak Italian, but snaps out of it. His mouth sets into a hard line, then melts into an easy smile. “I like it. You're good at it, too. I'd say that raider is about ready to build you a house and get a decent job.” He chuckles at his own joke, pushes off of the wall and walks over to me. “I never did hear what you would whisper, you're right. I'm glad I know now.” He turns back to the shadows and disappears after saying, “Follow the Freedom Trail. After you get the welcome wagon, come see me. You'll know which one I am.” Awesome. I can fluster him a little. It's not as much as what he does to me, but it's a start on my road to revenge.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

”Stay right there. You move, you'll regret it.” The raider doesn't say anything, but nods his assent. “You learn quickly. You're already doing great. You can speak and you can ask questions, but not move. Got it?” Again, the raider nods. “Nope. I need a verbal response baby.” He squirms when I call him ‘baby’ and whispers, “Yeah. I uh-I got it.” I laugh. He's so easily coerced. I haven't even started yet and he's already stuttering. “Good boy.” He shivers and looks at the ground. I lift his chin and force him to look at me. “Don't be scared baby boy. I'll take good care of you and then let you go. You're fine. You're safe here. I won't hurt you baby.” His eyes seem to calm and his breathing steadies. He's more relaxed, but I'll still have to keep an eye on him. 

“Such a good boy for me. So good.” I reach for his belt and slide apart the locking mechanism. He doesn't startle, so I unbutton his pants and slowly pull open the fly. “Mmm. You're doing so good baby. Such a calm baby boy.” He purrs a little, strangely enough, and pushes into the hand at his crotch. I reward his cooperation by palming at him and teasing the waistband of his boxers. He hums and keeps leaning until his head hits my shoulder with a dull thud. 

“So good for me. I think I'll have to bring you someplace else to reward all this good behavior baby.” He hums in approval and shivers a bit at the insinuation. 

“But first, what's your name?” He hesitates and tenses slightly but relaxes. “Raven.” “Such a good name compared to all the others. Usually it's something like Sinjin or Riptide. There was even a guy named Yancey.” Raven chuckles and looks at me willingly for the first time. His deep chocolate eyes are nearly blotted out by his incredibly blown-out irises and his bottom lip is red and shiny. He's been biting it a lot. 

“Yeah. I get that a lot. It's pretty unusual. Someone told me that it was the name of a bird before the bombs hit.” I smile at the reminder. “Yeah, it is. They were black, sleek, and liked to steal from people to get food. If I remember right, they were some of the most intelligent birds. A very fitting name for you baby.” Raven smiles toothily at the compliment. “You gonna actually make good on your offer to take me someplace else, or do I have to prove myself first?” “No. I'll do it. I just want to have a little fun before we go. A little… foreplay.”

I slide my fingers under the waistband of Raven’s boxers and almost laugh at how similar the move is to old contraband searches. His breath hitches again and he nuzzles at my shoulder. “Easy tiger, we're getting there. Slowly but surely.” Raven groans softly but lets me continue at my own pace. I pull at the waistband and snap it back into place. Raven lets out a huff of air and cants his hips upwards. “Alright, alright. I'm almost there, Christ.”

I pull the waistband again, but this time I slip my hand underneath it and stroke Raven’s cock lightly, drawing out a soft moan. I slowly drag my hand across the heated, sensitive flesh but don't fully grab a hold of him. He tries to nuzzle me again but stops and leans further back and puts his weight on his elbows instead.

“Like I said, you learn quickly.” Raven shudders as I put a little more pressure into my teasing touches and brush against him. I curl my hand around him and give him one teasingly delicious stroke, then stop to admire him. His breathing has quickened, but he still has some control over himself. I pull his pants down past his hips to relieve some of the pressure and Raven grunts, stopping himself from making too much noise.

“You better not try to hide any noises from me once we move. I want to hear my sweet baby bird sing.” I decide not to torture him anymore and help him to his feet. He gives me a look for not redressing him, but doesn't say anything. “You won't need them later anyway.” Raven nods. “Where to then? And what do I call you, Vaultie?” I laugh at the nickname. “You can just call me Sal.” “Sal… I've heard of you. In a lot of relationships with a lot of important people.” “I guess you could say that, yeah.” Raven just nods and doesn't ask for details. Good.

“Alright, let's go. I have somewhere nearby we can go. You still up for it, pretty birdy?” He grins at the phrase. “Yeah. Especially after what you were doing just now. Which direction?” “Northeast.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“A comic book shop, huh? Nice.” Raven hums thoughtfully and looks at all the shelves, some of which have the comics I've collected across the ‘Wealth neatly arranged on them. “Yeah. I had to clear out some ferals first, but it was worth it. It's nice and cozy here. Plus there's an entire floor made into one big bedroom and bathroom combo.” Raven turns to look at me. “This place has running water? And electricity?” I nod. “I got pretty lucky with this. Still had to clean up all the radioactive blood and burnt paper though.” I lead Raven all the way up the stairs carefully, since he wouldn't be able to catch himself properly if he fell.

At the top, I placed a table for hats and weapons to be left on, so I undo the belt of bullets I made for my .308 sniper rounds and pull the rifle off my back and set them down. I see Raven’s gaze drift to the rifle and I remember the one he had been trying to shoot me with. “Don't worry baby, yours is right here.” I pull the hunting rifle out of the old mailbag across my shoulder and set it down gently. “I couldn't leave it behind after I saw how carefully you put it down. Plus, I'm not that cruel.” He breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles. “Thanks. That old girl has saved my life more than my so-called friends. I've put a lot of work into her too. Cleaning, tuning, modding.”

I pull him toward the bed in the corner and push him gently onto it. He lets himself be pushed, and spreads his legs a little once he's sitting. His pants are still down a little and open tantalizingly. He wiggles his eyebrows at me and licks his lips. I laugh. Not exactly subtle, but it gets the point across. “Alright, alright. We're getting there. You're so eager, baby boy.” 

The bed groans in protest as Raven pushes himself further onto it and puts his weight on his hands. “This going to be able to hold us?” “It's put up with more than this before. It'll be fine... I think.” I unlock the cuff on his left wrist and lock it around the bars of the headboard instead. Raven shakes his head with a soft laugh and reaches to let his raven-black hair out of its bun on the back of his head.

The silky hair falls and frames his face in its soft, dark black strands. It comes down to just past his shoulders and looks surprisingly well-cared for, especially in the wasteland that is the irradiated Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

“You're such a pretty bird. So pretty and nice. You're not like all the other raiders. You're smarter, a better shot, more agile.” Raven smirks at all the compliments and leans his head back, inviting me to attach myself to his throat. I lean in and graze my teeth along the sensitive flesh so generously offered, then press a soft kiss to his pulse. I continue my trail down to his collarbone, making Raven shudder occasionally. My hands go to his thighs, supporting my weight and subconsciously making sure I don't get violently kicked.

He bucks a little when my lips brush against his bulge. Good thing I put my hands where there are, mio dio [my god]. “Easy pretty bird. Don't wanna break anything.” Raven huffs. “Well maybe you should hurry up then.” I scoff. “Rude.” I pull away slightly, giving me more room to pull his pants off. “Fanculo [Fuck] these things are hard to get off. Why do raiders wear this much leather? Merda [Shit].” I tug and the tight leather finally gives way and slides off his legs. A sigh of relief escapes Raven as the pants release their death grip on his crotch. “God I hate those things. They're way too fucking tight for me.” “I noticed. Need anything else that's cutting off your circulation removed?” He laughs. “Nah. I think that was it. There's some other things you could take off though.” I play along and tilt my head like a confused puppy. “Oh yeah? What would that be?” Raven frowns but I still see the smile in his eyes. “Oh I don't know. My shirt and jacket would be a great start.”

Playful. I like it. I can do playful.

“Sure thing.” The aforementioned clothing hits the ground with a soft thunk. “Now what?” A shrug. “My boxers?” He's still playing around, but that's definitely him asking permission. Good boy. I fake pout. “I guess so.” The cotton slides off much easier than his pants did. “Thank god that wasn't leather too.” Raven giggles kind of adorably. “Yeah. I don't think I could go on living if leather was strangling my junk constantly.” “God no. I don't think so either.”

Raven just waits patiently. Not moving restlessly. Waiting for me to make a move. “Such a good boy. So patient for me.” His cock twitches at that, finally out in the open. Exposed. God. Just that word makes me think of my shadow. What he said earlier when his lips were so close to my neck I could feel them move with each. Fucking. Word.

“You good?” He noticed, huh? “Yeah. Just something that guy from earlier did. It's nothing.” Raven sits up a little higher, tilts his head and furrows his brow. “Who is he?” I laugh dryly. “Hell if I know. Not yet anyway.” Raven squints. “What'd he do?” I shiver again. Jesus Christ, he really does have me wrapped around his finger. “He just kept getting so close to me. Talked so low and soft in my ear. Right up against my neck. I could feel his lips. Cazzo di inferno [Fucking hell] I almost lost it right in the middle of Diamond City.” Raven shudders a little too. “Damn.” “Yeah. That's how I felt. He's been following me for a while. A long while. That's the first time he's been that close. He did it again when I talked you down. Something must've changed. He's gotten close to me twice today. Merda [shit].”

Raven just stares, confused but willing to let me rant. “Sorry. I'm rambling and you're hard and naked.” Raven just shrugs. “It's fine. You need to go get pretty boy and figure out what's going on, that's fine. Just uncuff me first. I won't go anywhere. I'll be here when you get back.” He's not wrong. I would absolutely love to know what's happening with ‘pretty boy’.

“Food and water is in the fridge in the room right there,” I point to the old equipment room, “and there's plenty of ammo laying around if you need it.” I take a deep breath. “You sure you're okay with me leaving? Right now? I don't even know how long I'll be gone.” I walk back closer to him to uncuff him and Raven laughs. “This guy is clearly bothering you. Go punch him or fuck him or something. Have fun.” I unlock the cuffs and put them back on my belt. “Alright dad.” Raven chuckles softly. “Go get ‘em tiger.” He punches my arm lightly. “Alright. Don't break anything and don't eat all the Sugar Bombs.” “Got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This guy almost took over the show but I reeled it back in. Also, sorry dude.


	3. Seriously, THAT'S Your Password?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Lots of Google Translate Italian swearing and shameless flirting

It's been a whole fucking hour. I already had to sneak around whatever the fuck is in the water at Boston Common. Now I have to fucking climb over all this junk and old cars and shoot ferals before they tear me apart. “FUCK ME.” “Gladly.” “WHY are you just watching me do this shit?! Scopami la vita!! [Fuck my life]” He just smirks. “Them’s the rules. Sorry. Can't help you.” A feral jerks slightly and quickly gets a .308 to the face. “Nice shot. Hate ferals, huh?” I hiss at him and he steps back a little. “Well sorry pussycat.” “Back off. I might just shoot you bastardo [bastard].” He grins again. “Just not the face, yeah? I kinda need it.” I screech at him, fed up with his stupido cazzo [stupid fucking] smirks and just fottutamente stanco [fucking tired] of all this sneaking around. He gets the hint and turns a corner quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Finally.” I walk to the plaque behind the burned out bus and shove the dead feral off of it with my rifle. Write down the combination on the dial just like the 17 others before it. “This better be worth it.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The ferals are all lying dead, oozing radioactive blood all over the place and now I have to walk over them. Fan-fucking-tastic. At least I can see another dial up ahead, this one on the wall. Must be getting there. Better be. I pull up the notes from my Pip-Boy. Put in the code and push the center in after each additional letter. “Seriously. I went through all that just to put in ‘Railroad’. This is the Railroad, damn it. They exist but Jesus, pick a better password.” The door slowly lowers, revealing… black. And a switch on a nearby pillar. I push it. Nothing happens. “Great. Into the pitch black I go.”

As I get closer to the suspiciously lit candles, I hear another hum of electricity, the only warning I get before several flood lights blind me. “Ouch.”

“Stop. Right. There.” Like I could move anyway. I'd bump into everything. “You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting.” Damn right. “But before we go any further, answer my questions. Who the hell, are you?” I don't know how to introduce myself to these people. They are the Railroad, though. Here goes nothing.

“I'm Sal. Salaman Amante Di Molti. Soon to be Salaman Valentine. One of yours told me to follow the Freedom Trail. I did. Got here. Realized it was the Railroad’s place. Now we're here. Anything else you wanna know while I'm at it?” The obvious leader evaluates me. Looking at my guns. The feral blood all over me. The Detective Agency sign sewn on my jacket. Must've seen it and connected my name with Nicky. “Who contacted you?” “I honest to god have no fucking clue. Just some guy that's been following me. Wears-” She stops paying attention to me. Someone walked in. I couldn't see him though. Still can't. It's too dark.

“Deacon. Where have you been?” He grins and tilts his head just enough for his sunglasses to flash. “Fanculo.” He hears me and smiles wider. He can't know what that means can he? Maybe I should call him a detective, too. Damn him. “You're havin’ a party. What gives with my invitation?” I raise my voice just enough. “Bastardo.” I hear a tiny snicker. 

“Deacon, focus. I need intel.” She tips her head at me. “Who is she?” Deacon lights up. Stands straighter and throws his arms all over the place. “Wow. News flash, boss. This lady is kind of a big deal out there. She's the Sole Survivor of Vault 111. Tore her way through Concord and reestablished the Minutemen as their General. Tracked down Kellogg,” he faces me, “we owe you a truckload of Nuka Cola for that by the way,” He turns back. “ and tracked down his last assignment, a rogue Institute scientist in the Glowing Sea. Aaaannnd, as if that wasn't enough... she’s a proclaimed synth lover; monsieur Valentine can attest to that one. Wanderer extraordinaire. Animal lover. Likes ice cold Nuka Cola and long walks in the forest,” it doesn't look like he turns, but I feel him staring, “loves to swim in only the finest slightly-irradiated rivers and lakes. Doesn't take no for an answer, seduces raiders into ceasefires and proceeds to engage in consensual sex with a select few. Anything else? I have a few more but they're a little too… personal.” His voice drops like it did in Diamond City and I feel a shiver run down my spine. “That's… enough, Deacon.” The leader looks as uncomfortable as I do.

“Are you saying you'd vouch for her?” Deacon scoffs. “Yes. Definitely. She'd be perfect.” Okay. High compliments. He's got his facts straight at least. “That changes things. So. Who led you here? And why?” I snort. “Why don't you ask him yourself. You're standing right next to him.” Deacon grins. “I told you you'd know which one I was. I'm proud. You remembered me.” He wipes away a fake tear. “Why did you lead her here?” He sobers up quick. “I saw the potential in her. Been casing her for months, figuring out if she was a good choice or not. I liked what I found. Told her just today to follow the Trail. Seems like I made a good choice.”

He faces me again. Puts his hands on his hips. “Where's the raider? At home with a case of blue balls?” I feel the stares of the woman with the minigun and the scrawny kid and glare at him. “Not exactly, not that it's any of your business.” Deacon tuts. “See, that's where you're wrong.” The leader steps in front of him, between us. “Cut it out. You,” she points at me, “talk to Deacon about what your next assignment is. Everyone else, with me.” They step out, the minigun wielder goes reluctantly, and I'm left in the crypt alone with Deacon.

“So… Deacon, huh? Didn't peg you as religious.” He shrugs. “What can I say? Parents. Anyway, ignore what Dez said. We are going to the broken-down highway just this side of Mass Pike Interchange.” He walks past me, already ready to go. I whip around and catch him by the elbow. “Hold it. Why? And what do you mean we?” Deacon sighs. “Not trusting, but that's understandable. No points lost. We, and I mean we, are going out there and visiting a tourist. And before you ask, a tourist is a lookout, a small field agent who gathers intel. Like me, but not as good. Anything else?” I shake my head. I figure I'll find out why we have to talk to them eventually. “Perfecto. Let's get going then. After you.” He bows, dramatically sweeping his arm across in front of him.

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”Are we there yet?” “For the last time. NO. We ARE NOT. And why are you asking ME!? You're the one who actually knows where we're going! Se non ci fermiamo presto, lo pugnalerò. [If we don't stop soon, I will stab him]” Deacon runs ahead and sits down on a rock. “What are you saying anyway? I mean, from the way you're yelling at me and glaring daggers, I can only assume it means you're gonna kill me, but really. What are you saying?”

I walk past him but he just runs ahead again, this time sitting on an abandoned, rusty tricycle. “It means if you don't shut the fuck up before we get there, I am going to take this knife,” I flash the knife I've been swinging around in my hand for the last 27 ‘are we there yet’s, “and shove it so far into your ass you won't be able to follow me around and nag me.” Deacon inhales sharply. “Oof. Sounds rough. If only it wasn't a knife~”

I throw the knife and it hits closer than I thought it would. It sticks into the small tree stump behind his left ankle. “Chiudi la tua faccia stupidamente calda. [Shut your stupidly hot face]” Deacon actually stops talking. Shuts his mouth and everything. He shudders. “Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break you?” He snaps out of it, like when I ruffled him in front of Raven. “Nah. The batteries just loosened for a second. Just gotta wiggle them around and I'm back to fully operational.” I giggle even though I want to stab the fucker, not in the ass, and he smiles. “Well then I guess I'm gonna keep spitting out innuendos until you don't want to stab me.” “Good idea.”


End file.
